


far from my sky

by simulacraryn



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cherry Picking from various GW Related Media, Clones, Drabbles, F/M, Frozen Teardrop Cherry Picking, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Newtypes (Gundam Wing), Past Child Abuse, Post-War, Questionable ethics, not FT compliant, writing prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:08:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29798583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simulacraryn/pseuds/simulacraryn
Summary: [31 Days of Prompts] Taking place after the Eve Wars, we get to see the fall out of the end of the wars and the navigation of the new world. It is through the perspective of the "losers".
Relationships: Treize Khushrenada/Lady Une
Comments: 56
Kudos: 12
Collections: Bringin' Gundam Wing Back





	1. War

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flayrie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flayrie/gifts).



> Hello, don't mind the author being absolute Oz Trash and playing with head-canons with these one word prompts! Big love to Flayrie because I'm being rude trash by writing this for her and trampling over her canon compliant heart. ILU pal!
> 
> I will add tags as we go along and tag warnings where needed, as we will be going into some uncomfortable subjects given Treize's canonical background.

Every night, the dream was the same - she stands frozen at MO-II as Altron’s trident pierces the cockpit of Tallgeese II. She is forced to watch, even in her dreams, as the man she would have sacrificed everything for, is killed. For what exactly, she often asked herself, did he become a martyr? The war didn’t end with his final breath, it only became a cold battle of words and attrition.

Each morning in her austere routine, Lady Une is forced to live in the new world Treize died for. To drag on, maneuvering the “children” that fought the war in order to continue laying down the yellow brick road towards the future. Each night, before she goes to bed, Lady Une wages an inner war against herself.

It’s temptation every time she looks at the files that sat in the lock box. The information regarding his fucking clone and the DNR she chose to shred. Every night since Christmas AC 195, Lady Une thinks about the barely alive man in MO-V. By spring of AC 196, she is told that Ranier Perrault has been located and extradited to MO-V for harvesting.It’s perfect, she will have him back in the world he shaped even if it means becoming Doctor Frankenstein. 

But was it a casualty of war or a selfish desire on her part?


	2. Crow

When the grave had been dug, it’d been part of the act. Lady Une had gone as far as to go to His Excellency’s favorite florist and order the crowns for the state funeral that the man would have. It’d been imperative that the grand tragedy was played to a fine tune, despite the fact that there wasn’t a body to inter in the plot. Instead both headstones for Milliardo Peacecraft and Treize Khushrenada would be placed for show mainly as they were both presumed dead.

The look she had exchanged with Noin told Une all she needed to know: Merquise was out there, somewhere, biding his time. She would never tell the woman about Treize and MO-V, that was a well kept secret with NDA’s and plenty of people being allocated to the outpost. Who had the bright idea to give her the amount of power she’d been given?

The sound of crows distracts Une from laying down the fresh, bright red roses over next to the tombstone. The act must be kept, even down to the few tears she brushed away from her eyes - making a mockery to ruin her guerlain eyeliner and mascara. She would fix it in the car, away from the public eye. 

“Commander Une” - The voice of Representative Ted Narita catches her attention. - “ I understand it’s been a difficult loss, given your close working relationship with Colonel Khushrenada. My condolences.” 

Such a sycophant, Une thought to herself, flashing a demure smile and hoping in the back of her mind that the crow would sweep in and peck Ted’s eyes out. She loathed the sparkle in his eye when he looked in the direction of His Excellency’s grave. 

“On behalf of His Excellency’s estate, I accept and will ensure his cousin receives the supportive message from the Colonies.”

_Now, see yourself out before yours is the next one we dig._


	3. Beyond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really couldn't help myself, if you know it, you'll clearly catch the reference <3

**December 26, AC 195**

The war had been declared over, but the work wasn’t done. That was the thing about wars, a fall out always came along with ending a conflict. As various rescue teams moved along through the wreckage, finding bodies and identifying soldiers in order to return them to their future graves. Tallying the bodies that were destroyed along mobile suits was the work of an Undertaker and as the woman holding Treize’s list of names, Lady Une would commit each name to her memory in the way he had.

But not yet. 

Zipping up her astro suit, Une called upon Nichol and a few others that survived Fortress Barge’s fall to join her on a task she wanted none others to carry out. - “We’ll need tools and a good sweep of the area.” - Nichol called to the team as Lady Une joined them.

“We’re to retrieve the entire suit, Lieutenant Nichol. Have it sent to His Excellency’s estate, we’ll sort out what we will do with it _after_ ”

“Didn’t it blow up?” - Another soldier asked and Une’s head whipped in their direction, a stern look crossing her features. - “We go out and look.” - For once, she was thankful Nichol stepped in and spoke before she could. The group of four made its way to the bay where the sweeper ships had docked on MO-II, they were about to board one when two figures approached them. - “Hey! Don’t think you’re going out to retrieve Treize without a doctor to document…”

“Or a sweeper that can help you with the scraps.”

Lady Une halted in her tracks, turning her face to meet Sally Po and 02’s Pilot, Duo Maxwell. She’d barely interacted with either when they arrived on MO-II, but she couldn’t help but to wonder why they would volunteer to help. - “You two should be resting.” 

“We could be, but we can’t sit still while everyone else is cleaning up the mess we helped make.” - Duo’s braid swung when he put on his helmet, connecting it to the Astro Suit. Sally was doing the same with hers, smirking in Une’s direction. - “Duo mentioned there were rumblings about Tallgeese, so we figured we’d join.”

“Do you realize the paperwork that follows what you two will join? Neither of you are OZ.” - Une countered, but was met with a shrug from both parties wishing to join her.

“Does any of it really matter at this point? We’ll cross the bridge when we get there.” - It was Duo, his eyes giving her a harsh look. The Lunar Base hadn’t been kind to anyone in this war, the crimes committed to those pilots were reprehensible. But what are a few war crimes when the bigger picture was the end of the battle, right?

She would do anything to bring him back from beyond the realm of death, thus she resigned herself to allowing the extra hands to board the ship. -”Nichol.” 

“Colonel?” - He asked, keeping his distance marginal considering the situation. - “Handle the paperwork while we’re on our way. I wish to be undisturbed.” 

She needed to be alone. Over the course of the last twelve to sixteen hours, she’d been surrounded and incapable to _grieve_. She sought him, through their unspoken connection - the one that went beyond fighting wars, planning treason in the guise of a rose scented bath and glasses of wine. 

_I can’t feel you…_ \- She thinks to herself, securing the harnesses as they all started to get in the spacecraft. He was truly gone, wasn’t he? Closing her eyes, Lady Une tried to clear her mind until a faint sense came through. It was so weak, that she doubted it could be real. _Hold on, just hold on…_


	4. Doll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place before Treize surrenders his control of OZ and gets placed into house arrest, which means it takes after the whole "Murder Tsuvarov" orders.

**Unknown AC 195, prior to the final battle**

“Mobile Doll production has increased, Your Excellency.” 

The report was troubling, Treize noted while listening to the young adjutant he’d been assigned after Lady Une took command of the space forces of OZ. Tsuvarov’s sickening project was leaving a terrible aftertaste in each measured pull from his wine glass. - “Thank you, Lieutenant Arhnald. Continue to monitor the situation. Duke Dermail will want production to take place in outer space due to the lower costs, but we mustn’t allow the mobile doll system to replace the human factor in this war.” “Are you saying the war isn’t over, Sir?” - The young man stood ramrod straight as Treize set down his glass, turning his head towards the lieutenant. - “It was never over, Arhnald. Operation Daybreak was a two part event. The first event was the coup d’etat which led to the removal of the Alliance from power. That was Daybreak. The second part, the one we’ve been a part of has been Operation Pleiades. What do you know about the myth of Pleiades?” 

Arhnald took a moment to blink, thinking back about cartography courses at Lake Victoria and the humanities courses that were questionable of a military academy. The Organization of the Zodiac did tend to love it’s allegory and comparison games to grecoroman mythology and now it was making some semblance of sense. But it made sense, the Seven Sisters was clearly a code for each step taken after the fall of the Alliance.

The first was the complete smear campaign to get the colonies to side with OZ and disavow the Gundams (Maia, the nurturer). The second phase was sending a representative to hold sway and finish snuffing out the remnants of the USEA that held on by sheer force of will, ensuring the few players of the Alliance that were worth their military training would disappear until their appropriate time of reappearing (Electra, the lost one). The resurgence of Milliardo Peacecraft was merely a side factor, one Treize had accounted for once his friend had disappeared with the Tallgeese a few months back after the Antarctica incident. Milliardo played the role of the spectator, invoking his own diplomatic immunities even though it was clear he was Zechs Marquise. Much like Taygete, the nymph turned into a doe by Artemis in order to save her from a cruel fate. How ironic, no? Treize did stage the death of Zechs Merquise, allowing for Milliardo to shed that horrendous mask. 

Tsuvarov had his own role to fulfill, that of Alcyone - the sister that captured the attention of Poseidon himself. Sure, Bilmon Tsuvarov managed to catch _Treize’s_ attention only to get his flaws exposed. If he could just get Une back to his side, before the Foundation realizes that Une’s not what they want and they give out the order to execute her… 

Failure was met with death at OZ, if anyone knew it, it was him.

There were plenty of roles to be filled, but he had an inkling the actors to represent Celaeno, Sterope and Merope were starting to find their way. With gloved hands, Treize places a finger on the blueprints, reading **EPYON** in his messy left handed cursive. “I take you only to know the myth of the seven sisters, but not much else. You are a fairly new graduate, promoted quickly as a result of the loss of many good men and women in this war.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then think of this war as broken in seven parts, each named after one of the sisters. We are reaching the conclusion of this tragedy, Arhnald.”

Epyon would be Celaeno, the Dark One. That much he could see from the game plan he was designing, preparing things for when the tide would turn. His power would be taken from him, if only momentarily - all part of the plan leading into the endgame of his war. Dorothy would need to come to the stage, but the time was not yet right.

Stenope would be enacted by Dorothy as it was discussed, the lightning fast plan for the war to take down the man who first planned the end of the Alliance itself - Duke Dermail. The sister ravaged by the god of war would be the most fitting name for that part of things, right? Irony isn’t a consequence around these parts. And it would come down to Merope, the faintest of the sisters, to bring it down to an end: _his own demise_. He’d seen his adjutant excuse himself to tend to a knock on the door and Treize continued to muse, briefly moving to grab one of the pink roses so carefully placed by his blueprints.

“Your Excellency, a missive from the foundation.”

“Confirm my attendance,” - He is clipped in his words - “Begin moving everything and everyone to Luxembourg. We must bide our time and play the dolls at their own game.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that in the show, Operation Daybreak is the take over of OZ/Romefeller and the elimination of the USEA. In Glory of the Losers, it is renamed to Operation Pleiades, to keep in with the motif of Constellation Names.


	5. Carnival

**AC 195**

“Your excellency, there is a circus in town.” - One of his men made mention while they were all stationed in Bremen for a Romefeller conference. Treize turned his head in their direction, nodding briefly. - “We were hoping to ask for permission to take our children tonight.” 

“Captain, after the conference is over, your time is yours to spend with your family. You should make use of it and go to the circus.” - Treize addressed him, his mind going to a fond memory of himself with Vingt. He’d almost considered going to the circus himself, but Lady Une would have probably _exploded_ at the idea of Treize doing something so plebeian. Much like everyone around that held him to the pedestal that should have been Vingt’s. 

“We’ll make sure that we leave a strong contingency with you here on base, Sir.” 

Of course they would, he was certain it would happen. Though the impostor syndrome settles in, memories of a long forgotten carnival when he was nine and Vingt was seven. Such a long time ago, when the world was starting to fall apart around him and all he could do was learn to pretend in order to keep his brother from seeing the ugliness of their world. Granted, he’d failed at that - all he did was hollow out himself and force himself into a state of numbness.

Did he yearn for his childhood? Or did he crave a simple life away from the war?

There’s a moment in which Treize, now away from his soldiers, thought back about it. OZ was never intended for him, it’d been for Vingt and what he was doing… what his mission was, was to carry out what his brother had desired. To see an end to the endless manipulations the Khushrenada and Catalonia’s were responsible for, as the dual rule of the Romefeller Foundation. He was a bastard, the mercy of carrying his mother’s name had allotted him some leeway. But if it’d been up to Cinquante Khushrenada and Duke Dermail, Treize would have been relegated to Lake Victoria. A set up for failure on both ends: produce cadets worthy of dying in battle and be forced to watch their lives be needlessly sacrificed in a war for pure power display, rather than for a true reason. Or: be forced to lead these men to their slaughter. 

Thus, he would humor them and let them have their silly circus in the way he and Vingt had been humored with a carnival as children. Let them spend this moment of mercy with their family, for who knew when a Gundam would come cast them to their graves.

“I keep failing you, Vingt.” - He muttered to himself upon finding the solace of his own chambers in the vast Bremen building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited to reflect the age dif between Treize and his brother is two years <3 Thanks, Flayrie!


	6. Crown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are implications to child abuse in this chapter, it's a blink and missed it kind of situation - but there will be chapters where I touch upon Treize's past in the near future that will have a chapter's note like this one with the tags that apply to the specific chapter (as well as the tags will be altered in the appropriate places). Be warned that I will be touching upon his expanded canon history and it is not pretty. It will not be egregious or fetichized, but it will still be brought into the story. <3

**AC 184**

At thirteen, Treize was busy packing to join the new class at Lake Victoria Military Academy. He hadn’t paid attention to the ongoing chatter down at the parlor like Vingt had been. But the moment his bedroom door opened and his brother strode across the room, Treize could tell by the grim look that everything was certainly going to hell. - “Close the door, Vingt.” - He remarked, closing the suitcase with his newly pressed cadet uniforms neatly placed inside. He turns around, resting against the suitcase on top of the bed. Vingt had been about to close the door when a precocious little girl ran into the room, her dress billowing and launching herself right at Treize.

“Doro, you need to get back with your governess.” - Vingt grits through his teeth, as the girl clung to Treize. The teen dropped down to scoop her into his arms, briefly turning to Vingt. - “Don’t be too hard on her, Miss Gorman can be quite taciturn and short of patience with Doro.”

It’d been a mess, between their mother’s latest antics and both Duke Dermail and Grandfather’s continuous machinations, both Treize and Vingt didn’t get time to actually relax. No, everything was in a constant state of flux. This was their only time alone and now Dorothy had chosen to join them. Treize did his best to soothe the four year old, whose head was buried into the crook of his neck - to hide the fact she was upset and crying. So he did what he did when it’d been Vingt who needed a place to hide his tears, he cradled his step-cousin as close as he could.

“I mean, Dorothy already knows about this but you don’t. General Chillias is taking in a ward he’d been sponsoring. One of the Sancian Orphans.” 

The fall of the Sanc Kingdom, two years prior, had been all across the news. Visits from the likes of Marquis Wayridge had been _tense_ given his connections to the fallen kingdom. There had been a manhunt for both the Prince and Princess, believed to be dead. Treize had even heard Dermail’s desire to snuff out the heirs to ensure they could never return and take back what was theirs. 

Dorothy pushed herself away, turning her head to Vingt with a carefree expression. - “We can’t say more. Not with grandfather here.”

Treize’s brow furrowed, of course he started to think about it. He wasn’t due to leave for another two days, as such he figured that he and Vingt could use their time wisely. - “I see. Doro, why don’t you see what sweets I have in my stash.” - He sets down the young girl and she sprints for where she knew he kept his stash of sweets. Vingt’s eyes followed the girl and then he punched his older brother’s arm. - “I see how it is, Doro gets to dig into your sweets and your dear brother doesn’t get anything?”

“Doro doesn’t visit often, you can get your own damned sweets.” 

Vingt would never touch his stash, it was clearly a joke. Treize kept it as a result of being the least favored child in the household. Dorothy never ratted him out, and she was always sneaking him the things he enjoyed most whenever possible. Oftentimes, she brought extra of the rose water marzipan he loved the most. It was a matter of convenience of course, he hid his candies and shared them with Dorothy - in return, Doro got protection whenever the governess tried to slap her hands with the ruler.

“You two should visit before Treize leaves.” 

It’s not a suggestion and both brothers catch on to the idea. For someone so young it was clear Dorothy would follow in the family footsteps. In her hand, she held one of Treize’s marzipans - extending it to Vingt. He unwrapped it for her, taking the chance to split the candy in thirds so that they could share. She greedily bit into hers, savoring the sweetness - watching as the two siblings exchanged a knowing look.

“We could do it.” 

“You should. I heard a crownless king will be there.” 

Treize’s eyebrow rose and Vingt’s posture changed. It just couldn’t be that Chillias would be as bold as to subvert his own family, by protecting the rightful King of the Sanc Kingdom? No, he would be. Treize had seen just how much General Catalonia was willing to go in order to sabotage certain ideals within the foundation. 

“Vingt.” 

“We’re going.”


	7. Panic

**December 19, AC 195**

It is with a jolt that the woman laying in the bed awakens, her heart monitor beeping as her heart rate spikes. Lady Une’s arms felt sore from where the lines and needles stuck out from the IVs, her heart was racing, her eyes blinked in rapid succession as she tried to remember where she was. The heavy feeling could only mean she was on Earth, given it wasn’t the feigned gravity of the Lunar Base, or even Fortress Barge. The last thing she remembers was telling Bilmon Tsuvarov to end her life, for failure meant Death at Oz. She’d all but died in the eyes of His Excellency when he told her to return to him the woman he so fondly remembered, no, _was used to_.

Had Treize sent for her corpse? It couldn’t have been, he wasn’t even aware about the absolute shitshow happening in the stars. Une’s hands ran through her hair, finding it to be oddly clean for someone who should have been dead. Before she could do the stupid thing and begin to tear at the IVs in order to follow the dreadful sensation that kept telling her that she needed to join His Excellency in space, the doors to her room flew open.

“Lady Une, you’re awa-” 

“Take these off and get me the next shuttle to space.” - Her voice is hoarse, the doctor and nurses weren’t moving fast enough for her convenience. She sat up, head turning to the nurses. - “Was I not clear?”

“Our apologies, Ma’am, we still need to run a physical, you were shot through the chest and we don’t think space travel would be ideal with your heart condition.”

“Then, _get to it._ His Excellency _needs_ all capable soldiers in this battle. I will be joining him.” - It did not matter if she couldn’t physically be there, she was going to be there. Death didn’t claim her in the Lunar Base and it wouldn’t be a detriment from joining the final battle. One of the nurses moved to her side, gloves on her hands and a bassinet to place the IV lines for proper disposal at the ready. Une grit her teeth as the needles get pulled from her skin, her body swollen from the IV drips.

It wasn’t the ideal condition and she knew it.

“We will schedule a test immediately, Ma’am. We just need you to stay with us until we get you clea-”

“I will not have the time to be cleared, Doctor. Not if I am right on the state of things.” 

“His Excellency would not have it if we were careless with you, Lady Une.” - The doctor counter argued until the sound of someone clearing their throat came up behind them. The young man turned to greet a soldier in an Oz Uniform, the outline of their body making it difficult to determine gender, especially with the close cropped haircut they sported. One could say it was Noin, but considering this soldier wasn’t European. Une blinked briefly, Captain Andraus had been one of her right hands up in Space and they found their way back to Earth? - “Doctor, I need to debrief Colonel Une, if I may have some time alone with her?” 

“Of course, Captain.” - The doctor excused himself, motioning the nurses right to join him. Andraus crossed the room effortlessly, closing the door behind them as they offered Lady Une a knowing smirk.

“Report.” 

“His Excellency took the remaining forces of OZ/Romefeller once he took over from Relena Peacecraft as Chief Representative following the “unfortunate” demise of Duke Dermail.” - Andraus began their report, allowing for Une to absorb the intel. Good, the Sixth Sister had been enacted as expected. - “However, with Dermail’s demise came some complications. A splinter occurred within OZ and rebels of the colonies calling themselves White Fang have begun turning the tide against the foundation. The final battle will be against Milliardo Peacecraft and his organization.”

She should have had Zechs killed when she had the chance.

“What happened to Barge and the Lunar Base?” - She grabs the bottle of water Andraus extends in her direction. As they spoke, Une had begun working circulation back to her legs and moving the tired limbs. 

“The Lunar Base fell first. It ended in Tsubarov’s death. When the White Fang came after us on Barge, a group of us took you out of the station while others stayed behind to defend the post, securing our escape route. Lieutenant Nichol’s first priority was to bring you back to His Excellency.”

“And Nichol?”

“In the brig for insubordination.” - That statement brought a smirk to Lady Une. - “He may have made one too many unwanted remarks to His Excellency when you were delivered to him. Add in the times Nichol’s foolish actions placed you in the line of fire and he was already on a one way ticket to his execution. The only reason nobody pulled the trigger on the spot was the _lack of soldiers_ for the final battle.” 

“Andraus,” - Lady Une began, swinging her legs from the bed - “Take me to the brig. I will be taking whichever forces His Excellency left behind with me to space.” She stood on shaky legs, damn what the doctors say. She felt panic in her heart, knowing he was up there with potentially subpar personnel.

Andraus lent their arm for support, nodding. - “Yes, Colonel. I took the liberty of having your uniforms prepared for you once the alert flashed from here.”

“How many suits do we have?”

“We have several Tauruses, a few space Leos, some ground Leos we have been retrofitting for space battle. A few Aries units we could retrofit and Zero One.”

“How many engineers, mechanics and medics?”

“Seventeen, twelve and twenty. I will make a move on getting everyone prepared to follow us to space. Resource satellite MO-II has been a base of repairs and a relay station according to Arhnald. Captain Cage is already in station as well as a few others.”

“Good. We need to make haste.”


	8. Hero

**January 31, AC 196:**

The nascent government of the Earth’s Sphere Unified Nations had begun taking shape. It was easy, given the documents that Andraus and Une found in the offices of the former Chief Representative, Treize Khushrenada. It was early drafts of the new government system and how it was to be employed, including some of the newly minted Foreign Vice Minister to Colonial Affairs, Relena Darlian. A title the girl occupied as a “figure” rather than an actual official, the conditions that she would finish her schooling whilst learning about government. It'd been the only way any of them could actually maintain her within the public scope, while protecting her - if she were to suddenly disappear, then the people wouldn't have a rallying idol. Une knew well enough, upon reading the detailed letter Treize left addressed for her and mysteriously enough, Noin. 

Noin had been tasked to have the conversation with Relena, which had actually gone well. Une saw it for what it was, Treize leaving the cult of personality upon Relena - the likeable face of the new era. Upon her gloved hands, however, remained the dirty work they could not allow the figurehead to soil herself with. New face, same problems. Andraus had been a great adjutant in these new times and the only one who could openly travel to MO-V whenever needed to oversee Une's special project. News of his Excellency's surgery results reached them a week ago and Une was expeditious in sending Andraus back to space. In the meanwhile, Arhnald served in Andraus' stead. The man had been His Excellency's steward whilst inprisoned in Luxembourg and a trustworthy man. Loyalty would be necessary moving forward.

"How are the moves for the elections, Jeremy?" - She stood from her desk at the newly minted Preventer's Headquarters in Brussels, the chosen capital for the ESUN. Hague had been a close contender, but it'd been a slight margin which was actually influenced by a few straggler votes. Jeremy Arhnald chuckled, he'd been a good voice in the necessary ears to ensure the upcoming election of Bruno Ingells as their inaugural president. The man was a moderate parliamentarian, a pragmatic figure with a strong following on both sides of the aisle. He would serve best to bring about this new government. - "Everything is moving as needed, Commander. We have secured the necessary votes."

Good, Lady thought to herself as she moved to the window watching the world outside. 

"Any news on the repurposing of Lake Victoria for our new training center?" - She asked, knowing full well that they would likely need another training center in one of the old decommissioned mobile suit factories. Demilitarizing and disarming the world bring about unwarranted economical crashes. Not to mention, the Americans, as usual were declining to join the new demilitarization agreement. Figure the place where the Alliance's biggest following would be the ignorant assholes in this new era. Jeremy now stood next to her, arms folded over his chest - "Victoria is closed for rebranding, a good portion of old bases are being redesigned into new housing dwellings as a result of the war ravaging major housing centers. Major bases close to old Romefeller foundation clusters will be converted into outposts for Preventer. Dorothy will be handling the foundation cluster, as the majority of the monarchies with the exception of Sanc and Great Britain will be dissolved, or just used as tourist attractions without real power. As always, the British continue to be... difficult."

"They did refuse joining the foundation, that is their only saving grace from being dissolved. Sanc's royalty falls upon Relena, it is very likely she will keep the monarchy in the same way the British do. I've seen her conversing with the Firm." - Une rolled her eyes, her disdain for the British wasn't unfounded, considering they did not even join the fight to save the very planet they lived on. - "However, she sees through their altruistic façade, they're attempting to see if she'll consider joining the firms. It is a good thing that she continues to be infatuated by the _hero_ of the final battle. The last thing we need is the Firm gaining a strong foothold in our barely existing government."

Arhnald laughed at that statement.

"I'll see their attempts not only are dissuaded, but directed elsewhere. Though, Dorothy might actually be ahead of us both..."


	9. Daffodils

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies, the internet went out for almost 24hrs and it messed up my posting schedule <.<

**April, AC 195:**

She could not believe the audacity of plastering that damned picture onto the screens of Leo's cockpit! Lady Une's hands slammed into the top of the gauges, angrily whipping her head to see if she could get any visuals of the Gundam headed towards Treize. She ferociously gripped her controls, but being unable to see anything meant she was meant to rely on the communications channel. “Mothership, come in - what is going on on His Excellency’s ship?”

“Colonel Une, the Gundam Pilot has appeared to come out of the Gundam. We can’t see what is happening and Commander Treize advised we’re to leave them be.”

_You idiots! That pilot is aiming to kill him and you dare obey such a foolish order!?_ Une thought bitterly, resigning herself to the fact the war would end here because just like Cassandra, nobody listened to her. Removing her glasses for a brief moment, Une closed her eyes - letting the memory wash over her.

\------------------------------------------------------------

**Spring, AC 194**

Cordelia Fitzgerald _hated_ these events, but she was here by orders of her superior Officer, Septem. She had endured enough of the tomfoolery from the Alliance leadership, but the ultimate blow had been Septem dismissing Cordelia’s abilities and claiming glory for her work. What she’d noticed was the man standing next to the Specials leader, Chillias Catalonia. The younger man, with swept red hair and charming mannerisms who seemed to be a hit amongst the female population, had drawn a glare in Septem’s direction. It hadn’t been the first she’d seen the Special’s leadership send in Septem’s way, either. 

There was some chatter amongst Chillias and whom she guessed, was his adjutant. The man seemingly excused himself and disappeared out of Cordelia’s line of sight. “Excuse me,” - She spoke in the direction of the men chattering around her and disappeared towards the vast gardens of the Noventa Estate. 

Her eyes caught the sight of Mrs. Noventa prized gardens, the fields of flowers that seemed out of place to her, in this place of strength. They also brought nostalgia of a time long ago, as such, she walked away from the marbled floors and towards the grass, finding a patch where she could sit. However, she was alone, the man from earlier was also at the general area, peering at the distance.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” - She hears his voice, alluring as he turns his head in her direction. They weren’t too far and she could admire the gentle blue of his eyes, the way he seemed so carefree in comparison to herself. - “And far better than the grating voices of braggarts who wouldn’t know the meaning of actually working for their position, am I correct?” 

Cordelia raised an eyebrow in his general direction: “It is, but I was expecting to be alone.” 

“If you wish for me to go, I could.”

“You were here first.” - She remarked and he offered her one of the daffodils, a mirthless smile following that. For a moment, Cordelia felt as if she were staring at herself in the mirror. She doesn’t know why she takes the flower, let alone pin it to her ear. - “There is plenty of ground, yet it would seem that we were intended to meet at this moment, at this specific moment.”

Did he believe in the wheel of fate? Perhaps. 

“It would seem I do not mind your company, even if I have yet to catch your name.” 

He found himself chuckling at her word play and sheer bluntness, good qualities that could come in play at a later date. - “My apologies for the rudeness, my name is Treize.” - There, no mention of his last name and he preferred it that way. Bastards had no claim to a name except their first and he ensured he was addressed by his given name and not his surname whenever possible. “And yours, Miss?”

“Cordelia.”

Such a tragic name, Treize thought to himself. - “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

**Click** \- the shutter of a camera caught both their attention as Treize bolted to his feet, turning in the direction of the shutterbug. He’d been about to say something and demand the camera be handed to him, when he caught sight of Dorothy, holding the offending item. - “Doro.” - Treize spoke calmly as the preteen smirked in his direction.

“The daffodils looked great, but the two of you looked just in place.”

**Click** \- This time, she catches Cordelia, who has now turned to face them and Doro smiles. - “Give me the camera, Dorothy. It’s not polite to take pictures of people who didn’t agree to be in the artwork.”

With a scrunch of her face, Dorothy handed the offending camera to her older cousin and sprinted off. Treize pocketed the item and turned back to Cordelia. - “Would you like the pictures?” 

“No, thank you. Beauty is a hindrance, it does me no favors as a soldier.”

“Beauty could be a weapon, if wielded correctly by an ambitious soldier.” - He’d been made aware of his own value in aesthetics from a young age. It was a curse and a weapon all the same. - “We should perhaps get back, before the tongues run rampant with irrelevant gossip.” He crossed the way to her, extending his hand for her benefit. The moment her hand touched his, Treize felt a shock run up his arm. 

“So how long have you spent making Septem look competent?”

The words sent a chill down her spine to the point her shoulders shivered, Treize noticed and immediately shucked off his own coat, layering it over Cordelia’s shoulders with care. For a moment she stood still, unwavering and confused by this man. He was nothing like the men she encountered in the Alliance.

_To be finally seen…_

“For quite a while.” 

“A waste of true talent, then. Men like Septem do not deserve to look like they’re capable when they’re clearly not.” - She would make a fine addition to the Specials, that much he could tell. -”Would you rather stand in the side of history that ignores your talent, or would you rather _change the course_?”

\------------------------------------------------------------

**April, AC 195:**

****

**When the image cleared from the screen, Lady Une sent her leo straight for Treize’s ship, as the Gundam launched itself off from the ship. Why?! Why was that pilot allowed to walk away with his life? What had Treize even done? Once her leo’s footing was secured, Une was quick to get out of the cockpit.**

She couldn’t believe him, using that morsel of the past at a time like this! She was protecting _him_ and would have done so even if it meant her life. Her anger was still flaring as she made her way to him, only to find him standing serenely watching the gundam leave.

_You can be the most infuriating man I have ever met… ___


	10. Honor

**Mid Summer of AC 204**

The screaming had been going for a while, at least according to the household staff. Ever since Mariemeia returned home from boarding school and made it clear she was _not_ dying her distinctive red hair into whatever shade Lady Une determined “acceptable”. It’d been subtle and not so subtle acts of rebellion that brought their imperfect household to ruin. Treize tried his best to be understanding of Marie’s needs, attempted to be the parent he didn’t have for himself. But he knew Une had a point about her appearance and trying not to draw attention upon herself.

There were many who still followed the Barton Foundation and would stop at nothing to regain control of Marie, even though it’s been eight years. But the danger had increased since Relena had to be put into cryogenic sleep for the safety of the world. It’d gone even twofold when Heero decided to join her in her fate. The world no longer had it’s “powerhouse of consciousness”, instead they needed to quickly forge a new figure to unite the people. Une and Treize toyed with the idea of Sylvia Noventa, but they knew it would just bring resentment from the people.

Dorothy was a master manipulator, but not someone who could rally the people in the way Relena could. Doro’s audience was different from the Sancian heir and it was acknowledged. Treize stood up from his place in the study, exiting and following the voices. He’d reached the closest point when he’d heard Lady Une’s abrupt: “You are a clone of Leia Barton.”

They hadn’t agreed on when to tell Marie the rotten truth, that she was a clone of the woman who carried her to term. That she was intended to be the first test of Mythos in it’s earliest stages with false memories of being the child of him and Leia’s “sordid affair”. Except, if the Bartons had been intelligent and had done further research: Treize and his clones had all undergone vasectomies.

He wasn’t having any bastards nor did he feel adequate enough to be a parent. 

The silence that follows after is maddening, the choked sob makes the guilt rise like bile at the back of his throat. Treize stood, truly powerless to do anything about this situation as Une continued: “You are a weapon, one I’ve kept out of the public eye lest you fall the same fate as Relena did.”

The coldness in Lady’s voice made Treize close his eyes. There were ways to deliver the news, but then again - what were _one_ girl’s feelings against the greater scheme of things? The world hadn’t cared about the feelings Relena or Une had as it tore them apart, so why was Marie any differently? Perhaps the fact that despite her origin as a clone, she should have been allowed to have a childhood, free of the chains that bore down on their own. Had he died for nothing?

The door slams wide open and Marie exits, tear stricken until she stopped and turned towards Treize. The snarl on her face, an unfamiliar expression, said everything that needed to be said: “For all your “honor”, you still lied to me.”

She gives no quarrel, or time for a reaction, leaving Treize standing with a perplexed expression. Lady Une followed suit, he steeled his body and raised an eyebrow in her direction. He, like much of the world, lived at _her_ beck and call, even if she did not realize just how vast her influence could reach. 

“Say nothing of this,” - She began coldly and Treize shook his head, following it with - “We’ve known this day would come.”

There is a shallow coldness to his words and Une took a sharp look at his eyes, where she could see the hardened state of his emotion. She’d only ever seen this once before, _when he planned to die_.

“What are you going to do about the Barton Sympathizers?” - He asked, taking in the information for what it was, intel. Une says nothing, at least not right away when she cocked her head in the direction of her home office. Treize shakes his head, pointing in the direction of _his_ home office. The one Lady had never set foot into and avoided out of respect to the dead man that worked out of it. Treize turned on his heel, leading the way to the vast home study.

_His war room_

Call it for what it is, right? When the door opens, the first thing Lady’s eyes fall upon is the side table with the fresh arrangement of roses and daffodils, next to it sat a few mementos and picture frames. Pictures of _her_ and pictures of Marie. Even pictures of them together. Treize doesn’t stop by the desk, opting to glide a hand over a set of buttons and do the retina scan. It activates the hidden door.

To the right, Une notices the lone chair and the Oz Jacket she’d worn under her Astro Suit on the day she’d been shot through the chest. Her hand flew up to where she knew the scar resided. No, how did that even get here? Had Nichol sent it ahead of herself? Had it been used to mock His Excellency? She stops the sentimentality as Treize reaches the desk and settles down. He isn’t allowed a chance to speak when she begins: “You mock me.” 

“Pardon me?”

“The uniform.” - She was blunt and Treize shook his head. - “It arrived with Andraus, ahead of your capsule. Along with a letter informing me of your death at the hands of Bilmon Tsuvarov; a gesture from Lieutenant Nichol, of course.” - His expression was unreadable to her, but nevertheless he continued: “You say I mock you… _I mourned you_ , just as you mourned for me when you thought me dead. I wanted you brought home in order to give you proper rest and when the preparations were being made, it was when Barge fell. You were the reason many soldiers survived the fall of Barge, as they were tasked to bring you home, _to me_.”

There is silence between them as Treize gives himself a moment to recompose himself. Une blinked, unable to speak. These were the sum of her failures and she never once imagined him capable of mourning her. No matter how many times he showed, or told her what she meant to him - all she could see was everything that went wrong.

“We cannot kill the Barton Sympathizers.” - Une began, ignoring everything he’d just said. She wasn’t ready to face that truth, she would never be. Treize arched an eyebrow - “Of course “we can’t”. Never said anything about it being Preventers, now did I?”

No. She was not even going to listen to this idea, or suggestion. Not from him, not about this.

“But they do need to be dealt with. Relena is frozen until further notice, Marie’s the next figure head the world knew and they will come for her. Or they will kill her and instill another clone, they most likely have another one by now. It’s the perfect job for a man who is supposed to be dead and a group legally thought to have disappeared.”

“You’re not going to do this, really?”

“Honor is useless to the dead.” 

She had enough of this, she couldn’t believe it. 

“How dare-” - The words fell dead when he crossed the gap between them.


End file.
